Love That Does Not Die
by ilovetvalot
Summary: Some loves do not die no matter how hard one might try to kill it. This story contains special appearance by David Rossi Criminal Minds . Will/Mac love story! Multi-chapter.
1. Chapter 1

**Love That Does Not Die**

**Chapter One**

Walking into the ACN network offices, David Rossi sighed heavily. He hated publicity. Despised it, really. He recognized, however, begrudgingly and with negative feelings in his hardened heart, that it was a necessary part of his life. If he wanted to sell his books, he had to occasionally sit in front of an all-seeing camera and discuss them.

Usually, it was with brainless, blonde so-called anchors that wouldn't know an unsub from an Uzi. He was doomed to do fucking morning shows that were designed to grab mommies and retirees prone to watching the news in the morning. At least today he'd thankfully be working with a man that had half a brain.

Will McAvoy.

He grinned as he thought of his old friend. Now that was a single thought that could keep him moving across the cobblestone sidewalk toward the nearby glass doors. College buddies that had actually worked together within the first Bush's administration, they'd formed a bond. Will had been a speech writer and Rossi had been a security consultant, each using the opposite side of the brains to protect the President. And they'd both liked scotch…and the bar located less than a block from the White House.

They'd never lost touch over the years, meeting for drinks any time he visited New York or Will visited DC on business. An unexpected phone call from a booking agent from the network's News Night's crew had requested his presence to talk about his newest book, "Terrorists inside America". Hearing that the interview would be done by his old buddy was icing on the cake. After quickly scheduling a leave from the Federal Bureau of Investigation, Rossi'd caught a plane the next day to the city.

Now, here he was.

Entering through the double doors, he made quick work of checking in at the front desk and was quickly ushered through security and to the elevator that took him up to Will's office.

"Wait! Hold that elevator!" he heard a familiar accented voice call desperately.

Quickly stopping the steel door from sliding closed, Dave's eyes widened on the woman scampering toward him, her toned legs closing the distance quickly. "Mackenzie?" he gaped, staring down at the petite woman now standing just beside him, breathing hard.

Blinking quickly as she adjusted from the manic to mere panic, Mac's eyes widened slightly. "David?"

Rossi wasn't who sure more surprised. Him or her. "What the hell are you doing here, Mac?" he asked, finally finding his voice as the woman beside him nervously tucked her hair behind her ear. "Does Will know you're here?" He'd been around for the great Will versus Mac debacle almost four years ago. It had been an ugly, ugly few months, and he couldn't deny that he had no desire to walk into the middle of World War Three. Will had never gotten past Mac's betrayal, and the fact the she was here…well, he wasn't a man that scared easily, but even he had enough sense to know that an explosion could be imminent. And he didn't wanna be anywhere near the epicenter of that disaster.

"Oh, he knows," Mac replied with a shy smile, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked up at the man that had been singlehandedly responsible for keeping her alive more than once. "I'm his executive producer."

"You?" Dave said dumbly, his eyes wide. Of all the gin joints in all the towns, he had to walk into this one. God obviously had a contract out on him, and he was doomed to be in the deity's crosshairs.

"Me," Mac replied calmly. Tilting her head in the manner that she still would deny that she did not do, she asked, "Are you all right, David? You look quite this side of pale."

What the hell had he walked in on here? Shrugging his shoulders, Dave cleared his throat as he growled, "I'm a little shocked. My last impression was that you and Will had agreed to actively dislike each other from opposite sides of the world. When did that change?"

"A few months ago," Mac revealed with a slight shrug. "And it was only Will that was intent on actively disliking _me. _I_ was_ begging his forgiveness if you recall correctly. Which of course he hasn't given," she added on a mumble, wrinkling her nose as she averted her eyes and glanced over at the reflective wall grimacing as she saw David Rossi's still confused countenance reflected there.

Blinking, Dave caught Mac's arm as the elevator door slid open and she would have escaped. He smelled a rat… a rat that wore a very becoming Chanel perfume. But, still a rat. "Wait a second. That booking agent that called me…that wasn't Will's idea at all, was it? That's why he never called me. This was _your_ plan."

"You've written a wonderfully insightful book that deserves to get the exposure it needs in order to be successful," Mac replied with a sunny smile, valiantly trying to avoid his questions and accusations until she could get a more firm bearing on the situation escalating beyond her control. "You're a successful FBI agent that has had a career that would be the premise for a highly successful television series that the world would watch with glee, my friend. We here at ACN just want to jump on your coattails and catch a bit of the glory."

Oh, flattery was not her strong suit, and she only resorted to such a thing when she was clinging to the last shred of hope she possessed. He knew better. He knew _her. _Narrowing his eyes, Dave growled, "An empty office, Mac. Now."

Shoulders sagging dejectedly, Mac nodded. "This way," she directed, guiding him down a busy hallway and into a glassed walled office.

Following her inside, Dave closed the door behind him and flicked the blinds closed. Pointing a finger at the seemingly innocent woman, he shook his head. "You manipulated me."

"Not completely," Mac said quickly, her eyebrows rising as she waved a hand in the air between them. "It's a fantastic book that deserves the national attention our program can offer."

"Mackenzie," Dave warned, crossing his arms over his chest as he pinned her to the wall with his stare. "I don't like games."

"I know," she agreed softly, guilt creeping into her delicate features. "But I need help, David. As does Will. Things here are in a bit of flux and…"

Immediately shaking his head, Dave pressed his lips together. "Mac, you, Will and I came to an agreement several years ago. The only way I could stay friends with you both was to stay the hell out of whatever it was that wrecked you two. That hasn't changed."

"A _lot_ has changed, Dave," Mac countered softly, shifting her weight and landing heavily on her spiked heel, sending a sharp spasm through her ankle.

"Okay, you got me there. Especially if you're back here working with Will every day. How in the hell did that happen anyway? I mean, no offense, but I'm pretty sure that Will would have rather lain down on the subway tracks and waited for oncoming death than…. Wait! _Charlie. _Charlie maneuvered this, didn't he?" Rossi asked, recalling the wily head of the news division. An ex-Marine, Charlie Skinner wasn't exactly known for his skills in diplomacy. He was more a "damn the torpedoes" kind of guy. Usually Rossi respected the hell out of it. Today, however, he wondered if the older man had finally gone senile.

"After my stint in Afghanistan, he offered me a job. Here."

Now that was new information. Dave gaped. "With Will? Has he finally lost what he had left of his limited marble collection?"

"Without Will's knowledge," Mac explained softly, wincing at the look of horror that was filling her old friend's eyes. "After a few minor skirmishes, he agreed to try it. It's working out quite well. Most days," she amended.

"Mac, you could have gone anywhere after your tour overseas. You did some of the best investigative reporting the business has ever seen," Dave pointed out gently, his eyes going soft. Hell, he'd always been fond of MacKenzie. He knew she'd cheated on Will during their relationship, but God, her deceit had torn her apart as much as it had the man she'd deceived. The truth was that he'd never seen Will as happy as he'd been with MacKenzie McHale. Before or since. "Why'd you come back here, Peanut?" he asked, dropping the pet name he'd bestowed on her years ago. "You had to know he'd go ape shit."

"You know why I came back to ACN, Dave," Mac whispered, her eyes filling with tears. "This was where _he_ was."

"Jesus," Dave groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face as he shook his head in resignation. "You're still in love with him."

* * *

_**Author's Note: Hello, readers! Usually, I write Criminal Minds stories almost exclusively, but these unique characters of this brilliant show would not shut up in my head. So, hence, this is a Newsroom/Criminal Minds crossover of sorts. For those unaware, David Rossi is one of the profilers on the CBS program, "Criminal Minds", but even if you do not watch the show, this story should be relatively easy to follow.**_

_**The authors of this story (ilovetvalot & tonnie2001969) also run a writing forum called, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner". Please feel free to visit our profile page(s). The link is provided there and we would love for each of you to visit. We are also on Facebook under Ilovetvalot Fanfiction and Tonnie Fanfiction. Please come join us.**_

_**Thank you for allowing us to write for you and that fantastic new show on HBO, Newsroom!**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Love That Does Not Die**

**Chapter Two**

Mac could feel her face burning. She'd never inherited her diplomat father's skill at shielding her emotions, and David Rossi was beyond compare when it came to reading people anyway. The man had made a professional career based on his ability to take a tiny blink, a barely averted gaze or a slight clearing of the voice and intuit subtext that would soon become as obvious as the evening news she produced. It was one of the few things she hated about him. She knew a girl like her would be as transparent as glass under his scrutiny. Why waste time pretending otherwise? Trying to hide her feelings from him would only serve irritate him, and he wasn't a man that tolerated fools well. He and Will had that in common.

Damn them both to hell.

"Why ask a question that you clearly already know the answer to, Dave?" she asked quickly, her British voice clipped with exasperation as she dropped her ever present binder on the desk between them.

"Maybe I was hoping that you'd have a logical, reasonable explanation for a change, but then those qualities aren't exactly priorities in your book, are they?" Dave retorted, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared down at the slip of a woman. "Is there even really an interview, Mac? Or am I just here to run interference for you."

"Before you become completely growly faced, let me preface this by saying it wasn't my idea at all. I didn't know you were arriving until you were already on a plane in transit," Mac defended herself, unconcerned by the older man's glower. Years spent as his friend had given her a slightly super-human power in that way. She'd cultivated a shield against him that had served her well throughout the years.

"Yeah, already figured that much out, Mac. This whole stunt has Charlie Skinner's stench all over it. I repeat my earlier question. Is there even an interview?"

"Of course, there is. Charlie mentioned it to Will last week and Will thought it was a fabulous idea. In case you missed it, the world isn't a very safe place these days, is it? What better time to feature an author courageous enough to speak about the omens we should all be watching out for in this country."

"Don't stroke my ego, Peanut," Dave replied with a frown, sidestepping her feigned attempt at praise and delving to the quick of the matter. "I'm here to do the piece, not Skinner's dirty work. If he's got employee relation problems, he's got a whole squad of human resource lackeys to run interference for him. The way I remember it, neither of you ever had a problem holding your own against Billy," Dave remarked, using Will's nickname that had been well-bandied in their White House glory days. "What I don't understand is why in the hell you'd put yourself through this. I never thought you'd be a proponent for self-flagellation."

"You know if anyone else other than you was to call me by that name or cast dispersions on my character, I'd give new meaning to the word torture," Mac countered, deflecting the question with what she hoped would be a snarky focus on that detestable nickname.

"Yeah, but I'm not just _any_ guy, am I, _Peanut_?" Dave replied with a knowing smile. They both remembered when he'd bestowed that name on her. It was well before she and Will had become involved. She'd been taken hostage during a prison riot; there, of course, to try and get the "real" story behind the prisoner's claims of guard brutality. He'd found the tiny woman in a corner, bravely waving a microphone in an inmate's face, firing off rapid questions in that precise accent of hers as she struggled against the grip another prisoner had around her narrow waist. They'd have both killed her. After they'd raped her, that is. Ever the negotiator, he'd talked both men down and bargained for her release. Then, in typical McHale fashion, _she'd_ given _him_ hell for ruining her perfect interview. He'd told the "Peanut" to calm down before her shell cracked anymore than it already was…and the name had stuck ever since.

Inhaling slowly in an attempt to gain some semblance of control, Mac lifted her eyes to his. "No, I suppose that you aren't. Nevertheless, I'm not the person responsible for placing you at this particular party. I'm crafty, not catty. And despite what Will may think of me, I wouldn't sink that low as to try and turn his friend against him."

"True, but I'm your friend, too" Dave offered with a slight nod. "That also doesn't change the fact that I think you're insane for coming back here. How bad has Will's special brand of punishment gotten?" he asked gently. He knew just exactly how cruel Will could be when he was hurting. He'd suffered through enough of his drunken rages after the other man had finally chased Mac away four years ago. The fact that he'd chased her straight into war-torn countries on the brink of disaster had alternately terrified and tormented the man.

"Nothing I can't handle," Mac returned, bright smile in place once again as she squared her shoulders and tugged at the rumpled hem of her silk shirt.

Well, that was MacKenzie McHale all over the place. Stiff upper lip and all that crap. "I wouldn't be here if that was true," Dave responded flatly. "I can find you something in DC, you know. Easy. One phone call, Mac, and I'll have you out of here."

"He needs me. He won't admit it aloud, but he does," Mac returned softly, her shoulders drooping for a bare second before rising once again. "I screwed things up once by not fighting for him. I won't do that again. I'm not sure what Charlie's plan was by enlisting you to come here, but I swear, I didn't have anything to do with it," she told him honestly.

"I believe you," Dave acknowledged softly, staring at the younger woman. "You look like hell, sweetheart."

"Americans and their special variety of flattery," Mac replied breezily, taking a step toward the door. "I may never grow accustomed to that."

"You _are_ an American," Dave corrected her, well aware that Mac's father had served as the Ambassador to England, hence her British accent. She'd grown up there, but the USA claimed her as one of their own. "And stop trying to get around me. You're exhausted," he said, noting the dark circles underneath her eyes. "When was the last time you slept?"

"It's election time. Sleep can wait until after November," Mac declared, laughing him off, capable herself of hearing the hollowness ringing in her tone.

"Mac," Dave began, pausing when he watched her eyes widen on a point over his left shoulder.

"I do believe your actual host has arrived," Mac said with a quick smile, waving Charlie inside her office with one hand while she grabbed her coffee mug with the other. "I'm sure we'll see each other later, David," she murmured with a smile, pausing only to peck his cheek as Charlie Skinner barreled into her office. "Play nicely, gentleman! I have a run down to throw down," she called, agilely ducking out of her office and fleeing to what she could only hope would be a neutral demilitarized zone.

* * *

_**Author's Note: Hello, readers! Usually, I write Criminal Minds stories almost exclusively, but these unique characters of this brilliant show would not shut up in my head. So, hence, this is a Newsroom/Criminal Minds crossover of sorts. For those unaware, David Rossi is one of the profilers on the CBS program, "Criminal Minds", but even if you do not watch the show, this story should be relatively easy to follow.**_

_**The authors of this story (ilovetvalot & tonnie2001969) also run a writing forum called, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner". Please feel free to visit our profile page(s). The link is provided there and we would love for each of you to visit. We are also on Facebook under Ilovetvalot Fanfiction and Tonnie Fanfiction. Please come join us.**_

_**Thank you for allowing us to write for you and that fantastic new show on HBO, Newsroom!**_

_**Also, if you are a Criminal Minds fan, please do not forget to nominate your favorite stories in the 2012 Criminal Minds Profiler's Choice Awards. Information and nomination ballot are available at the forum. Link may be found on my author profile page. Thank you.  
**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Love That Does Not Die**

**Chapter Three**

Turning to face arguably one of the most powerful men in the news industry, Dave's eyes flashed dangerously. "You are one sneaky son of a bitch!" he accused, jabbing a finger toward the disheveled older man. "I really thought you were smart enough _not_ to try and use me as a pawn in one of your fucked up chess games. I fucking hate chess, you prick!"

"At least I'm a prick that comes bearing scotch," Charlie announced unworriedly, waving a bottle between them as he arched one scraggly grey brow. "If memory serves, you love MacAllen."

"Right now, I'd love to cram my fist down your throat," Dave retorted angrily, watching Charlie move toward the small tray of glasses in the corner of Mac's office. From the ease of the older man's movements, it was obvious that he was well accustomed to taking advantage of the waiting glassware. "What the hell are you playing at, Skinner?"

"You and I need to give our two favorite people in the world a small push in the right direction," Charlie replied genially, splashing liberal amounts of liquor into two glasses, pausing for a bare second before topping off one of them.

"The only push I wanna offer is one to you off the Brooklyn Bridge," Dave muttered, taking the glass the elder man passed him in spite of his anger. After all, who wasted premium scotch?

"Still a hot head, I see," Charlie replied affably, dropping into one of the comfy leather chairs in front of MacKenzie's desk and taking a sip from his almost overflowing glass.

"What the fuck were you _thinking_, Old Man?" Dave hissed, bringing his own glass to his lips and taking a healthy swig. While he was never one to need the fortitude that came from aged liquor, he wasn't above using it to dull the headache that was growing by leaps and bounds. "Bringing Mac _here_? With Will?"

Taking another easy sip of the wonderful libation, Charlie shrugged as he answered evenly, "I had to do it."

"Why?" Dave asked bluntly, watching the old man's face. Charlie was a pain in the ass, but he was a wise pain in the ass. If he said he'd had a reason, chances were, it was sound. Even if the old grouch didn't personally agree with it.

"Nobody wanted Mac," Charlie informed Dave softly, not meeting his gaze, choosing instead to stare at one of the prints hanging on the wall behind the desk. "Damned fools," he muttered, his hand clenching the glass for a bare second as he tried to stall the sudden shaking in his fingers.

Dark eyebrows drawing together in confusion, Dave turned in his chair to look at Charlie. "Explain," he demanded, the one word hanging hard between them.

"When Mac got back to the states, she was a shell. She'd seen too much…been forced to witness too much. She was burned out for lack of a better word. CNN… FOX… they all considered her a bad risk."

"She did some of the best reporting a war correspondent has ever been responsible for doing," Dave replied loyally, his dark eyebrows pulling tightly together. "You know I'm right."

"I do. That's why she's here. Will McAvoy is the one person I knew on Earth that could put her back together again, Rossi."

"Or rip her apart entirely, Charlie," Dave pointed out tersely, slumping down in his chair as he took another stiff swig. "If she's really that fragile…"

"She is," Charlie said sadly. "Can I trust that what is said between us in this room will stay here?" he asked, finally turning his gaze to the man beside him.

"Depends on if it hurts my friends," Dave returned truthfully, meeting the older man's eyes.

"Your friends couldn't _be _in any more pain if I stuck a knife in them," Charlie returned evenly. "Afghanistan was bad for Mac."

"Afghanistan would be bad for _anybody_," Dave countered, suppressing a shudder as he recalled some of the footage he'd watched. Hell, he had heard his teammate Aaron Hotchner's own horror stories, which had only slipped out of the man's lips after one too many scotches late at night. No one should have been forced to live through the dreadfulness of that war.

"You don't understand, Dave," Charlie returned slowly, his eyes uncharacteristically serious. Licking his lips, his jaw clenched. "While she was there, she found her way onto one of the terrorist camps and into a lot of trouble. Before Special Ops could pull her out, she was very nearly raped. She _was _beaten. If it hadn't been for Jim Harper, her number two… she'd be dead. He'll go to his grave keeping her secrets, though. So, when I say that she was burned out upon returning home… I'm not saying it lightly. Incidentally, over the years that Will and Mac have been apart, he, too, has been on a downward spiral. But, that part you've seen. The drinking and the women. It's not him."

Running his hand over his face at the information being thrown at him, Dave shuddered. "Will doesn't know," he managed softly, the realization sinking in with growing tiredness and anger.

"What do you think?" Charlie grunted, tilting his hand to the side and watching the liquid roll against the heavy glass. "I don't think she even realizes that I know the whole story. I, however, still have friends in high places and got the entire brief without the black lines."

"Shit," Rossi cursed.

"Will already feels guilty she was there in the first place. If he knew what she'd endured…"

"Billy would lose his mind," Dave acknowledged softly. Hell, _he _might lose his mind.

"Yep," Charlie agreed succinctly.

After a long moment of silence, Dave forced himself to drop his hand from his face and down the remainder of his scotch. "Why the fuck am I here, Charlie?"

"Honestly?"

"If you even have it in you to give an honest answer," Dave quipped.

"They're lost without each other. And even though they're in this building, working with each other… they aren't _together. _The simple fact is, they need each other. They just don't realize it. Well, strike that. Will doesn't realize it. He can't get past the betrayal. He can't let himself see how much Mac has changed. He's scared he'll be hurt again and he can't see that she's not the same person she was, Dave."

"You think I can help with that?" Dave asked irritably. Why the hell did people always expect him to pull miracles out of his ass? It was becoming a habit that he wished like hell his friends would try and break.

"I sure as fuck hope so because if you can't, I'm terrified that we're going to watch _both _our friends fade away in front of us."

"Charlie?"

"Yeah," the older man grunted, swirling his liquor in his glass as he stared at the amber fluid.

"You realize that if you weren't ten years older than me that I'd be kicking your ass all over this building, right?" Dave commented conversationally.

"I think you'd try," Charlie smirked, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

Rolling his eyes, Rossi dropped his glass on the desk, the heavy thud ringing loudly in the otherwise silent room. "Where the fuck is Will, Charlie?"

* * *

_**Author's Note: Hello, readers! Usually, I write Criminal Minds stories almost exclusively, but these unique characters of this brilliant show would not shut up in my head. So, hence, this is a Newsroom/Criminal Minds crossover of sorts. For those unaware, David Rossi is one of the profilers on the CBS program, "Criminal Minds", but even if you do not watch the show, this story should be relatively easy to follow.**_

_**The authors of this story (ilovetvalot & tonnie2001969) also run a writing forum called, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner". Please feel free to visit our profile page(s). We have several fun activities, discussion threads and challenges running. The link is provided there and we would love for each of you to visit. We are also on Facebook under Ilovetvalot Fanfiction and Tonnie Fanfiction. Please come join us.**_

_**Thank you for allowing us to write for you and that fantastic new show on HBO, Newsroom!**_


	4. Chapter 4

**SOME SPECIAL, SPECIAL NEWS FOR OUR READERS:**

_We wanted all our readers here on fanfiction. net to know..._

_We (the authors ilovetvalot and tonnie2001969) are pleased to announce the publication of our first book on Kindle...Inescapable Eye of the Storm. Join our original characters Abigail Donovan and Colin Storm as they find a unique way to ride out the storm brewing...both inside and outside the bedroom!_

_Romance and Erotica find their perfect mix in this fantastic tale of pleasure brought to you by Sarah O'Rourke. That's the penname we've chosen to use professionally._

_There's a sneak peek that is available on Amazon. com on the "Look Inside" tab. If you've liked our fanfiction, we can't wait to hear what you think about our first published piece!_

_For anyone interested, right now, our work is exclusively available for purchase at Amazon. Com. And you don't need a kindle to read it (though Kindle readers are always appreciated)… you can download it to your computer! Simply travel over to Amazon. Com and search for Inescapable Eye of the Storm by Sarah O'Rourke!_

_Thanks to everyone that encouraged us to make this leap._

_And bonus news…Colin and Abby's story doesn't stop here. More books are coming your way! Stay tuned – We'll be launching a website and facebook page for our alter- ego, Sarah, very soon!_

_Also, we WILL continue with all of our fanfiction stories. We won't be abandoning anything. We might just be a little slow._

* * *

**Love that Does Not Die**

**Chapter Four**

"He's in a meeting on the 42nd floor. I haven't heard a call for security so I'm assuming he hasn't tried to skewer Reece Lansing with his Mont Blanc pen yet," Charlie replied easily, a chuckle hiding beneath his surprisingly truthful words.

"Ratings problems?" Dave asked knowingly, well aware of the fierce contest that existed between his friend's desire to speak truth and the network's greater desire to turn a profit.

"Always," Charlie returned with a heavy sigh. Straightening his shoulders, he forged forward. "But, the big problem is that Reece hates Mac. He wants her gone. He holds her directly responsible for the advertising dips and assumes that she's leading Will around by the dick. The good news is that we possess enough dirt on the Lansing dirty deeds to keep the wolves at bay."

"So Will _wants_ Mac here?" Rossi remarked hopefully.

"It's a long story, but the short scoop is that Reece tried to do Mac an injustice… blaming her for the ratings slips and all. Mac is finally producing the show that Will has dreamed of doing. In this, they are united. Plus, we both know that the only person allowed to injure Mac as far as Will is concerned is _him_. He'd plant his fist in the man's face brave enough to insult her to her face."

"That's a start," Dave commented drily, wondering if he could handle another shot of liquor without ending up plastered before he even saw the first camera.

"Barely. Otherwise, they go at each other's throats at least twice a day. Between Will parading his troop of tramps under her nose and basically being a daily dick, Mac is feeling the strain."

"Am I here to tell him the truth, Charlie? I mean about what happened to her." Dave asked softly.

"Only if there's no other way to penetrate that thick skull of his. In my humble opinion, it's really up to Mac to share that horrible story with him, but if there's no other way to grab his attention, I'll leave it to you to decide," Charlie returned calmly. "You're also here to give us a ratings boost. Your book is a bestseller and you're very attractive to our female demographic. Two birds, one stone," he said with a sage grin.

"I could easily hate you," Rossi muttered, rolling his eyes. "I told Mac I could find her something in DC, Skinner. I meant it. I know as many important people as you do and they all owe me favors."

"Poach my star producer and I'll rip your balls off and stuff them in your mouth," Charlie growled, stiffening as he clutched the arms of his chair. Hell, he'd never thought Rossi would try to rescue MacKenzie. He simply assumed the younger man would ride in on his not-so-white-horse and fix the damn situation. This was obviously what he got for not kicking Will's ass already.

"I can't allow her to stay here and be miserable on a daily basis either," Rossi returned evenly. "I'm not that kind of guy."

"Doing that would cost you your friendship with Will," Charlie pointed out gravely.

"Or bring him to his senses," Dave suggested, reaching for the bottle and refilling his glass, ignoring the better angels who were screaming for moderation and reminding him of the million people who might be watching him in a few hours.

"It would more than likely get you scalped. Will might be anti-gun, but I don't think he'd be averse to removing that thick black hair of yours. Despite how it looks, we both know he still loves her deeply."

"Yeah," Dave admitted quietly, sipping the liquor thoughtfully. "Christ, Skinner, why the hell couldn't you just ask for an easy favor for once? This is…. "

"If you say impossible, I'm taking a header off the roof," Charlie threatened, only half kidding. "I've come at this from every angle in my mind. You're friends with them both. You never took sides."

"Neither did you," Dave retorted. "Why am I being thrown under the bus?"

"Because you, unlike me, are young enough that you can still bounce. I'd be road kill."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Dave grumbled, taking another sip of scotch. "If this backfires, everything could get a hell of a lot worse," he stated, putting the cards on the table.

"I'm not sure that's possible," Charlie replied dryly.

"Obviously, you don't know Will and Mac as well as you think. Manipulation is a cardinal sin to both of them."

"It's for the greater good," Charlie said, conviction etched in his voice.

"I hope you know what you're talking about, Skinner," Dave mumbled around his glass as the door flew open behind them.

Turning to spot a lean young man in the doorway, Dave narrowed his eyes.

"Oh! Pardon me," Jim Harper apologized, holding up a hand as he began to back out of the office. "I was just looking for Mac."

"Jim! Hang on a second," Charlie ordered, rising from his chair. "There's somebody I want you to meet. Jim Harper, this is David Rossi, one of Will's guests on the show tonight. Dave, this is Mac's number two, Jim Harper," he introduced them as the two men shook hands.

"It's an honor to meet you, sir," Jim said with a grin, quickly shaking Rossi's hand. "Mac has mentioned you a lot over the years. You got her out of the Allentown Pen back in the eighties, right?"

"That was me," Dave agreed, returning the younger man's handshake. "Mac has spoken highly of you as well."

"She's a great teacher," Jim replied loyally. "Actually, it was you that I was coming to find anyway. You're wanted down in hair and makeup if you're done here."

"We're done," Charlie said tersely, draining his glass before grabbing his half empty bottle from the desk. "Jim can give you the fifty cent tour along the way, can't you, son?"

"Of course, sir," Jim deferred, not quite certain how he'd been roped into playing tour guide. Charlie Skinner was his boss's boss's boss, though and if he said jump, that's what you did. Even if you fell flat on your ass. Which he might, he thought grimly. From what Mac had told him, David Rossi could be one hard son of a gun when things weren't going his way. And by appearances, the guy was patently unhappy with whatever conversation he and Charlie had shared.

"You'll keep me updated, Rossi," Charlie said with a small smile. "I wanna hear all about tonight."

"Yeah, you're first on my speed dial, Skinner," Rossi rumbled sarcastically, glaring at the old pain in the ass. Looking at the lanky youth standing in the doorway, he sighed. "Lead the way, kid. You can fill me in on how this place works."


	5. Chapter 5

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* * *

**Love That Does Not Die**

**Chapter Five**

"_Who_ is that?" Sloane Sabbith breathed as she caught sight of the tall, dark broody man that Jim led into hair and makeup. Pausing outside the elevator, she allowed herself to gawk. Unprofessional, perhaps. But never the less, she found herself staring and enjoying the moment.

Glancing up from his notes for the evenings show, Will McAvoy allowed a glimmer of a smile to touch his lips. "David Rossi. Author and a profiler for the FBI."

Grabbing Will's arm, Sloane's nails dug into his skin. "You know him?" she hissed, jerking the other man to a stop. "He's a _god_!" She gaped, blinking rapidly when the man in question disappeared from view. "You owe me, Will. I want an introduction," she ordered, turning on her heel to face him.

"I may owe you, but if memory serves, I owe you one gun toting psycho," Will retorted, one brow arching as he stared down into her bright eyes. "Although," he noted, cocking his head, "Rossi would apply on both counts, I guess."

"See!" Sloane enthused brightly, nodding encouragingly.

"No," Will stated flatly, shaking his head. "That man eats little girls like you for dinner. Absolutely not," he denied. He shuddered to think what hell a man like Dave could put a woman like Sloane through. She would be a babe in the woods without a little red cape to protect her from the elements. No fucking way.

Glancing down at her body, Sloane raised an eyebrow as she gestured at herself. "What about this looks girlish to you?"

"Huh?" Will grunted, following her fluttering hands. "Christ, Sloane. Get a grip. I don't see you like that. And I'm not going to allow Rossi to see you like that either. Forget about it. He's been married _and_ divorced three times."

"I didn't say I wanted to take a trip down the aisle with him," she replied with a roll of her eyes. "I just want to…."

Holding up a finger, Will growled, "Don't finish that sentence. I don't want whatever image you've got in mind in my brain. The answer holds. He's way out of your league. Hell, he'd be out of Cleopatra's league."

Tilting her head, Sloane narrowed her eyes as she noted, "You sound like you know him pretty well."

"I do. We're old friends, which is why I'm doing you the favor of heading you off at this particular pass despite the fact that you set me up with a woman that nearly shot me a few months ago. Rossi's not good enough for you. Besides, he's just here to do a couple of interviews promoting his new book and then he's back on a plane to Quantico."

"Great," Sloane replied with a smile. "It's the perfect amount of time for a meaningless fling."

"No," Will retorted tersely. Christ, he was gonna need another appointment with his therapist, Dr. Habib at the rate his day was devolving. First, he'd been forced to deal with Reece and his uptight song and dance revolving around ratings, and now his colleague's newfound sex drive was threatening to drive him around the bend. "Don't you have a show to put on?" he asked irritably.

"I've got a few minutes to spare." Sloane shrugged as she glanced back at the now empty doorway. "So, you're friends. Tell me more."

"There's nothing to tell. I'm not gonna introduce you, and I'm not going to help you get him in bed. End of story." He could withstand the Sabbith glare she leveled on him. In the end, she'd thank him for his interference. And, bonus points that he wouldn't be forced to gut Rossi for hurting his young friend. He didn't have many, and he found himself more and more protective of the ones he _did_ have. He blamed Mac for that, too. Before she'd returned, he'd happily lived his life on automatic pilot. Now, he was forced to fly his own damn plane.

"Fine. I'll find Mac. She'll introduce us," Sloane threatened, looking around the hallway for the executive producer. "She _loves_ matchmaking."

"You're willing to trust a woman that can't manage her own love life to give you tips on your own. Have you ever heard the saying, 'the blind leading the blind', Sloane?" he asked in disgust. He'd given the younger woman so much more credit than that.

"Will, look at me. I'm young. I'm hot. And, I'm smart. I think I'm intelligent enough to know what I'm doing here."

"You're an infant that wants to swim into the ocean with a woman eating shark. Do me a favor, Sloane. Grab the fucking lifeline and let me haul your ass ashore before you come out missing, oh, something important. Like your heart!" Will argued, frowning down at her. "I love David Rossi like a brother, but this newfound conscience I've been saddled with isn't going to let me waltz you into that room and wave you under his nose."

"You're sounding like an overprotective father," Sloane surmised, wrinkling her nose as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"A brother! Maybe! I'm nowhere near old enough to be your father and I resent that implication," Will retorted heatedly.

"Resent it enough to punish me by introducing you to your hot, sexy friend," she teased, wriggling her eyebrows.

"I much preferred it when your sex drive was dormant," Will muttered with a long suffering sigh. "If you're that hard up, I know a couple of Wall Street attorneys that you'd have a hell of a lot more in common with…"

"I don't want to talk shop," Sloane retorted. "I want to have hot, sweaty, mindless…"

"Please, I beg you. For the love of God, stop," Will groaned, wincing at the younger woman's description. He felt fairly certain that the David Rossi that he knew would be more than happy to oblige her, but then Will'd have to kill him. And he had a show to put on, damn it.

"I will, just as soon as I swindle a tiny little introduction out of your tightfisted, begrudging hand. Really, I thought you were more generous than that, Will. Rumor has it, that you've grown a heart. I mean, people say it's kinda black and charred…not fully functional, but…"

"Sloane," Will said, raising his voice slightly as he glanced down at his Rolex. "Isn't your show at four?"

"Yeah," Sloane responded blandly, shrugging one thin shoulder.

"It's 3:45," Will said with a patronizing smile.

Eyes widening, Sloane cursed. "Shit!" Shoving him aside, she ran down the hallway toward the control room as quickly as her shapely legs could carry her.

Crisis averted, Will exhaled a breath of relief. Now, maybe he could get on with his damn day.

* * *

_**SPECIAL NOTE: AND NOW THE BIG NEWS- THE AWARDS SEASON HAS COMMENCED! Nominations have opened for the third annual Profiler's Choice Awards for Criminal Minds' fandom! Please visit Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum for the nomination ballot, rules and guidelines and category definitions. Please review ALL information BEFORE submitting your nomination ballot. Ilovetvalot, Tonnie2001969, and HXChick are NOT eligible for ANY awards. PLEASE COME BY THE FORUM AND TAKE A LOOK. EVERY NOMINATION BALLOT IS IMPORTANT!**_

_**Also, we have the Halloween Challenge ready for signups at the forum for anyone interested!**_

_**Also, please check out our brand new multi-chapter story, "Love That Does Not Die". It is a Newsroom/Criminal Minds crossover story focusing on the Will/MacKenzie dynamic with special help from David Rossi. Please give it a try!**_

_**As always, thank each of you for reading, reviewing, alerting and favoriting our stories. We truly appreciate each one of you.**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**SPECIAL SIDE NOTE – Sarah O'Rourke (the professional pen name that ilovetvalot and tonnie2001969 use) has released a NEW book on amazon. Com – Please swing by and check out **__**"The Devil's Snare"**__**. Please check out our other books as well. They are **__**"Inescapable Eye of the Storm"**__** and **__**"The Estate"**__** And please feel free to friend Sarah O'Rourke on Facebook!**_

* * *

**Love That Does Not Die**

**Chapter Six**

"McAvoy!"

Closing his eyes at the deep voice that echoed down the hallway toward him, Will shook his head. He wasn't sure what the hell he'd done to offend God today, but the Big Guy was doing his level best to rain down some kind of Armageddon on his head. He was sure of it. Turning, he eyed the former linebacker stomping down the corridor toward him.

"Where the _hell_ did you go this time?"

"I had a meeting. In the building. You know, the secured building where you said I was safe and allowed to move around under my own steam," Will retorted sarcastically, glaring at the bald, black man barreling toward him.

"Where else?" Lonnie Church challenged, lifting his chin. "Don't even _try_ and bullshit me," he dared the older man.

Sighing, Will shrugged. "I went out to lunch."

"Yeah," Lonnie snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Got that when I trailed your sorry ass to Sardi's!"

"It required me to be alone, Lonnie. I had a source and he refused to meet with my own personal avenging angel at my shoulder. Sue me."

"I don't wanna sue you; I wanna deck you, man. My job is to guard your body because some psycho wants to put you in the ground."

"Allegedly. Allegedly wants to put me in the ground," Will corrected under his breath. Hell, at this point, he might be willing to lie down voluntarily _if_ it meant he'd get some fucking quiet.

"What the fuck ever man. As a so-called smart guy you do realize that requires to be in my line of sight at _all _times, right? I mean, I _am _speaking English and you're not a moron. These are short, complete, coherent sentences that a fucking toddler can understand, right?"

"I'm a newsman, Lonnie. Occasionally, that's going to require me to respect my sources and actually act like I've got some journalistic integrity," Will replied in a bored voice.

"Nah, you're a _dick_, man. One that's gonna get a cap in his ass if he doesn't learn to follow simple directions. Blue North Security does not _pay_ me enough to put up with this bullshit," the taller man raged.

"Look, I'll pay you double to leave me the fuck alone," Will offered generously, willing to pay any amount if it meant he could find fifteen minutes of peace inside his day.

"You aren't the only one with integrity, asshole," Lonnie retorted, crossing his arms over his wide chest. "Keep playing fuckin' games, and I swear to God, I'll tag you with a GPS locator, McAvoy. Try me," he said, jabbing his finger toward Will's face before turning on his heel to stride back down the hallway. "Pound 5 on your phone _before_ you leave the building, Will. Wait for me or the next time I find you, you go into traction. I won't have any trouble at all locating your ass in a hospital bed," he called out over his shoulder before disappearing around the corner.

"Still making friends and winning fans all over the damn place, I see," an amused voice noted from behind him.

"Fuck off," Will directed stonily, not bothering to turn and face the owner of the voice. He'd heard it enough times over the years to recognize it in his sleep.

"Now is that any way to talk to one of the few real friends you've got left, Billy?" David Rossi asked genially as he clapped his pal on his tense shoulder.

"I've generally decided that friends are a pain in the ass and I'd probably be better off without the ones I have," Will announced grouchily, turning to face a man he'd known for over twenty-five years.

"Present company excluded, I presume," Dave deadpanned, staring at Will's tired face. "Bad day?"

"You have _no_ idea," Will muttered, shaking his head. "Good flight?" he asked, guiding Dave down the hall toward the green room.

"Eh, coulda been worse. I remember when you guys used to spring for first class," Dave complained, shuddering at the thought. "I was wedged between a grandma from Wisconsin and a chatty Canadian. I think I hate you a little for that."

"You'll live," Will grunted, shoving open the door and stepping inside the thankfully deserted room. "Next time, spring for your own ticket."

"Your inordinate gratitude humbles me, Billy. I mean, your people calling me on a moment's notice and summoning me to New York, supposedly on your order?"

"With embassies being stormed around the world, it seemed like a pretty good time to talk about the bad guys in our own backyard. You were the first guy that Charlie and I thought of calling."

"I'm honored," Dave grumbled, privately knowing that Skinner's ulterior motives had a hell of a lot more to do with his presence than any book he'd written. "I was a little surprised by your new staff. I would have thought that might have warranted a casual mention, McAvoy," Dave needled, dropping into one of the easy chairs scattered throughout the room. Nailing his old friend with a look that quelled lesser men in their tracks, Dave bit out, "What the _fuck_, Will? Are you some kind of glutton for punishment or is this some diabolical plan to pay MacKenzie back for four years ago?"

Leaning his head back against his own chair, Will groaned. "If I asked you to leave this alone, is there a hope in hell you'd do me that one solid? Just for now." Talking about MacKenzie now would be like slicing himself open with a scalpel without the benefit of anesthesia. He knew Rossi would wheedle his answers out of him, but if it could happen over an expensive bottle of scotch, so much the better.

Considering the stress lines bracketing Will's mouth and eyes, Dave relented. "For now. But before I depart back to my bureaucratic wasteland, you and I are gonna have a conversation."

"Fine," Will agreed succinctly.

Nodding, Dave negligently crossed one leg over the other as he studied Will from across the room. "Besides, I'm a little more interested now in why the hell you've been assigned a bodyguard. Since I know you've never been married, I can cross crazy ex-wives off the list. So, who've you pissed off now?"

Yawning, Will smiled smugly. "Hmmm, there's the Tea Party, big business, Leona Lansing and her cronies, and about seventy-five percent of my own staff…and that's just this week. Take your pick. It's really an open game. I'm pretty sure Don Draper is still taking bets in the pool."


	7. Chapter 7

**Love That Does Not Die**

**Chapter Seven**

"Either you need to slow down or I need to start making a list," Dave remarked, stretching his legs out in front of him as he watched Will rise to grab a bottle of water from the bucket of ice across the room.

"Please keep your damn color coded notebook in your pocket," Will muttered, twisting off the cap of the water and pitching it toward the trash can. His friend's proclivities for cataloguing his thoughts in written form were well-known. "That anal retentive bullshit is irritating as hell. You realize what would happen if one of those damned little books fell into the wrong hands, right?"

"Not all of us can have a nearly photographic memory. Besides, you're younger than me. Your memory is still intact. Not to mention that the list of people that appear to want you dead seems to be growing. Are you sure we shouldn't add Mac to that list? If I know you, you've made her want to plant more than one letter opener in you eyeball since she got home," Dave commented, watching Will lift the bottle and take a long swig.

"Leave it alone, Rossi," Will ordered gruffly, swallowing hard.. "Last time I checked Mac was a big girl that was really good at making her own choices and holding her own. She doesn't need you to fight her battles."

"Even from you," Rossi retorted bluntly.

Turning, Will glared at Dave. "You know what went down. She's not an innocent sheep here. She made the decision to come back here and take this job."

"She made a decision to come back to _you_, dickhead," Dave corrected astutely.

Will shrugged, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Then she made a fucked up call."

"Damn, you _are_ hard," Dave replied with a sigh. "But let's get back on track here, shall we? Why do you have somebody gunning for you? And don't you think that might have warranted a call to the only guy you know that might be able to offer you an actual profile on the guy…or gal. Based on Page 6, you've got a lot of skirts that wouldn't mind puttin' a plug in you."

"Months old news. Try reading a current newspaper. I've been the very model of a modern gentleman," Will said, pressing a fluttering hand to his chest. "Haven't you heard? I'm on a mission to civilize."

"My ass," Dave grunted, rolling his eyes as he leaned back in his chair. "You've been living like a monk is what you've been doing and you were never civilized. You're barely housetrained. I know you, McAvoy. When MacKenzie came back, you tried to hurt her with other women. The problem was that in doing so, you hurt yourself just as much. More, maybe," Dave said, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. "So, you gave that up and went back to just making Mac and the rest of the general population miserable."

"Stop profiling me," Will spat, his mouth tightening as he took a step back, placing the proverbial and literal distance between him and the truth. "It pisses me off."

"The truth pisses you off. I'm just the guy brave enough to say it to your face," Dave returned evenly.

"Thanks, but I've got a therapist for that, asshole," Will grumbled. "Can't you just mind your own business? You came here to get some buzz on your book. Concentrate on that."

"I can multi-task. And by the way, MacKenzie _is_ my business. I didn't save her life all those years ago to watch you kill her by inches now. Or to watch you die, either for that matter. Now, tell me about these death threats. What's the deal?"

The change in topic was welcome, difficult as though it could be. "It started a few months ago. Some wild comments on my blog that ACN's insurance company took way too seriously started this whole fucking mess. I told told 'em that I didn't need a blog. Now, I'm saddled with Robocop out there somewhere," Will explained, waving toward the door.

"A name, Will. I wanna check him out," Dave replied implacably.

"Christ," Will muttered, reaching for the water bottle again, his stomach gurgling. "Lonnie Church. He works for Blue North Security. He's a former Army MP and he's about eight feet tall and packing. I'm clear. Believe me. He never lets me forget about him, and for such a big guy, he's very temperamental about being left behind. I think he might have abandonment issues."

"Having you for a client would give anybody issues," Rossi snorted as the door to the room opened and an attractive blonde woman walked into the room. Eyeing her appreciatively as he automatically stood, he smiled. "Well, who do we have here?" he greeted her with a sly grin.

"Hello! Hi!" the newcomer replied with a wide smile. "I'm Maggie Jordan, Mr. Rossi. I'm one of the associate producers on the show," she explained, rushing forward to shake his hand. "It's a huge honor to meet you. I've read all your books. They're wonderful. So insightful. I've been a huge fan for years."

"Have you?" Dave drawled silkily, enjoying the blush creeping over her alabaster cheeks as he pressed his hand against hers. "Well, we'll have to see if I can autograph a few of those for you while I'm here."

Quickly noticing the byplay between the two and that glint his old friend had in his eyes, Will stepped quickly between the two of them. "No," he said sternly, pointing at Dave. There was no mistaking the warning in his voice, and Dave's amusement was obvious.

"No?" Dave echoed innocently, reluctantly dropping the young ingénue's hand. "You'd deny your lovely employee a few signed books?"

"I'd deny _you_ whatever's going through that devious mind of yours," Will warned in a low voice. "OFF. LIMITS."

Oblivious to the interplay between the two men, Maggie sighed as she hurriedly explained as she pressed a couple of index cards into Will's hand, "I just popped in to leave the questions with you that you'll be asked to comment on tonight and make sure that there's nothing you need."

"Well…" Dave began silkily, trying to peek around Will's looming body more to annoy the man than do any actual flirting.

Shielding Maggie, Will growled. "He doesn't. He needs nothing. Nothing from you _at all_! Go find Mac and tell her that we're almost ready to do this thing," he ordered.

"Will do, Boss," Maggie agreed readily, spinning on her heel and rushing back out the door.

"Bellisima," Dave breathed as the door closed, dropping back into his chair. Lifting an eyebrow as he glanced up at Will's darkened face, he grumbled, "You didn't used to be such a buzzkill."

"She's young enough to be your daughter," Will retorted, flapping an arm toward the door.

"Or a wonderful diversion during my fun filled trip to the Big Apple," Dave countered slyly, wriggling his eyebrows. Needling McAvoy had always been one of his favorite hobbies. And while he could appreciate a pretty face, he had no real designs on the girl. Seeing Will in protector mode was a change, though… and a nod to MacKenzie's influence.

Now THAT was the real story here.

"Mac would kill you and serve you on toast," Will stated tersely. "And I'd help. Stay away from Maggie. And if you see a woman named Sloane, run. She's off the menu, too."

"Damn, I'm getting cock blocked all over the place. You wanna warn me off of Mac, too?" he asked, daring to push the limits of Will's patience.

* * *

_**If you're looking for a change of pace, then head on over to Amazon and get a FREE copy of The Estate, a Kindle release from Sarah O'Rourke (our alter ego). It's an erotic romp that is deliciously depraved! It is free for January 1, 2013! And don't forget...if you don't have a Kindle, you can download the free app to read any book on your PC, iPad, Android, etc. For details, check out our Sarah O'Rourke's Facebook page at facebook DOT com SLASH Sarah DOT Orourke DOT 507. (And while you're searching for new and exciting reads, check out Sarah's other books!)**_


	8. Chapter 8

_Calling all readers of Sarah O'Rourke (our alter ego!) We have just lowered the price of The Devil's Snare to only 99 cents on Kindle. You can grab your copy today on at (slash) author (slash) sarahorourke, and choose The Devil's Snare! (Sarah also has three other books published…check them all out!)_

* * *

**Love That Does Not Die**

**Chapter Eight**

"I'm sorry," Will replied, his voice deceptively soft as his gaze narrowed on Rossi. "I'm _really _hoping that I misunderstood you."

"What?" Dave returned with an innocent grin, as if such a thing was possible. "Mac, too, has a no trespassing sign draped around her neck?" he drawled, tilting his head as he stared into Will's hardening face.

"Touch her and find out," he invited, his eyes darkening ominously while his hands fisted at his sides.

"Well, well, well, there _are_ cracks in the armor," Dave remarked, sounding pleased as he rose from his chair. "I'm impressed. I was beginning to think that your heart had turned to steel. But, gladly, it hasn't."

"My cardiologist assures me that the ticker's just fine," Will retorted with a glare. Why the hell Dave was pushing him, he didn't know, but he was more than ready to shove the hell back.

"It bothers you to think about Mac with someone else." Dave smiled arrogantly. "That's interesting."

"It bothers me to think about Mac with _you_. There's a difference," Will snapped, jabbing his finger in his long-time friend's lapel. "You eat softhearted women like her as an appetizer. I've met all three of your exes, remember?"

"Isn't that what she deserves though?" Dave asked conversationally. "To be used like she used you? To be hurt the way she hurt you? It'd be a sweet revenge for you with the added bonus of me getting laid. Win/win for everybody concerned. Well, except for Mac," he continued casually, seeing just how far he could push his old friend.

It didn't take long to learn the truth.

Grabbing the lapels of Dave's suit coat, Will slammed his friend into the nearest wall. "Don't talk about her that way. MacKenzie isn't on the menu for you now or ever, Dave."

Unconcerned by the anger burning in the other man's eyes, Dave merely raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? If it isn't me, it'll be somebody else eventually. You can't keep her from every man in New York City. Sooner or later, there's going to be a man that can make her forget all about you and whatever it was you had together. And maybe that would be best for both of you. Maybe I can kill two birds with one stone while in the Big Apple. Get some free press for my book _and_ help you finally get over your ex."

"You don't _get_ over a woman like MacKenzie, you asshole," Will hissed, slamming Dave against the wall again. "You survive her. That's what you do, Rossi. She rips your guts out and you try like hell to hate her. You dedicate every waking moment to making her life a living hell, but at the end of the day it's _you_ that feels like the one that's been eviscerated. How's that for fair, right? You want some of that kind of pleasure, Rossi?" he laughed humorlessly.

"Is that so?" Dave asked curiously, keeping his voice carefully emotionless. "Tell me more."

Shoving away from his so-called friend, Will stared at Dave's impassive face as it suddenly dawned on him that the elder man was fucking amused. "Son of a bitch," he whispered. "You're _baiting _me."

"You call it baiting. I call it a little push toward making you face the truth," Dave countered with a small shrug, straightening his jacket with a tug here and there. "Evidently, drastic times call for drastic measures. If the image of me fucking Mac is what makes you wake up and look at reality, so be it."

"I know the truth, Dave. I just like to avoid it where I can," Will mumbled as he ran a hand down his heated face. "Don't stir the pot. Mac and I have learned to live with each other. We've found a way to work together. Let that be enough."

"Oh, cut the crap, you pansy-assed schmuck," Dave growled, truly beginning to wonder if Will McAvoy had been replaced with a pod person from the once-planet Pluto. "Face what's in front of you and stop acting like a fucking coward. You've never stopped loving that woman, and you never will. You've tried and epically failed! And after everything… all the pain and all the bitterness, it' still a love that has not die despite your best efforts to kill it."

"Nope, you're right on that," Will snapped angrily, his façade cracking as he slammed his palms against the nearby table. "I didn't kill it. She murdered it in cold blood. With her lies and deceit, she slit its throat!"

"Oh, fuck that," Dave bit out, his eyes flashing in warning. "She made a mistake, Will. A huge mistake that cost her more than you know. And she's paid for it. You've made sure of that every single day since she came back here, haven't you? Damn you, she's done her penance. Let it go and move on. Move forward. And do it with her."

"Are you seriously telling me that I should just forgive and forget?" Will asked incredulously, his eyes widening as he faced his oldest friend. "She fucking betrayed me. She ripped out my goddamn heart, sautéed it over an open flame, and then came back here to serve it to me one forkful at a time!"

"Boo fucking hoo, McAvoy," Dave said coldly. "I think she's been punished enough for that sin. Have you ever thought about what she put herself through to atone, man? Have you ever given that a fucking _thought_?"

Will shook his head blankly. "What the hell are you talking about?" Taking a step toward Dave when the other man's mouth tightened, he repeated, "Dave, what are you talking about?"

Lifting his chin, Dave lowered his voice. "After she cheated on you… after she was done begging you to forgive her, what happened, Will?"

"She left," Will answered simply.

"_Left_. That's a word for it, I guess," Dave stated sarcastically. The urge to slam Will's head into a wall was almost overwhelming, but he resisted. "Another description might be that she threw herself headlong into one of the deadliest wars this country has ever fought. I really think that one is more apt. She sacrificed her safety in an effort to outrun _her_ pain. Have you ever stopped to think of how badly she must have been hurting for a goddamned _war_ to look _good_ to her, Will? Do you have any idea how much she suffered over there?"

Something in Dave's tone gave Will pause. There was something unsaid. Something hidden. Something he didn't know.

"Do you?" Will asked softly, his voice calming eerily as he took a step toward Dave, willingly placing himself back into the line of fire. "Why do I suddenly have the feeling that you've appointed yourself Mac's savior? What happened to her that you feel the need to avenge, Rossi? What the fuck is it you know?" Will asked, just as the door behind him opened.


	9. Chapter 9

**Love That Does Not Die**

**Chapter Nine**

"Am I…ahhhh…interrupting something?" Don Draper asked uncertainly from his position in the doorway. "'Cause, I could come back," he offered, pointing quickly down the hallway. "In fact, I think I'll come back," he nodded quickly when Will turned to glare at him. "I'd rather come back. Maybe with reinforcements," he muttered under his breath as he began to pull the door closed.

"It's fine!" Will barked. "What do you want, Don?" he asked gruffly, forcing himself to step away from Dave.

"Actually, I'm just doing Mags a favor and here to let you know that wardrobe is ready for our guest," Don said with a nervous smile and wave to the dark headed man leaning indolently against the wall. "It's a real pleasure to meet you, Mr. Rossi," he continued, stepping inside the room to quickly shake the other man's hand.

Nodding slightly, Dave returned the handshake, then exchanged a look with Will. "We done here?"

"For now," Will replied, measuring his words carefully now that they had a witness present. "But, we'll be continuing this discussion later. Count on it."

"Don't worry," Dave returned with a mocking smile. "I think I'm actually looking forward to enlightening you, McAvoy. If ever a guy deserved to see things for what they really are, it's you." Brushing past the other man, Dave smiled at Don. "So, wardrobe, huh? I've been told I look good in Armani."

Offering Will a worried glance, Don held the door. "I'm sure they'll be able to accommodate that. It's just down this hallway. First door on your right. I need to go over a few details with Will, but Molly here," he said, snagging a passing intern's wrist, "will be happy to show you to Wardrobe."

"Lead the way, Molly," Dave invited with a wink toward the cute girl Don had commandeered. "And tell me a little about yourself."

Rolling his eyes as Rossi flirted his way down the corridor with a woman half his age, Will turned to drop his empty water bottle in the trash can. "What did you need?" he asked Don grouchily.

"Nothing," Don denied, leaning against the doorway as he watched the senior newsman carefully. "I mostly just wanted to stick around to see if you tried to slit that guy's throat from behind," he said, jerking his head in the direction Rossi had gone. "Maggie said you guys were friends. Did she get that wrong? Because if you yell that loud at all your friends, I'll just try to stay that guy you mildly dislike. It seems like the safer bet," he remarked dryly.

"You heard that?" Will asked, grimacing. Shit. That's just what he'd wanted… to provide _more _grist for the office rumor mill. About his relationship with Mac, no less.

"Uh, yeah." Don nodded. "It was pretty hard _not_ to hear, Will. I'm sorry."

"Who else was out there?" Will grunted, turning to stare out the window at the city lights. "Please, God, tell me MacKenzie didn't hear any of that," he groaned, dropping his hands to the window sill and bowing his head.

"She didn't," Don said crisply. "Last I saw her, she was terrorizing the powers that be upstairs about the budget they'd given her for the next quarter. You're safe on that score. And for the record, I was the only one in the hallway. And before you ask, yeah, I know how to keep my mouth shut with regard to what I heard."

"Thanks," Will muttered, squeezing his eyes shut as he willed the pounding in his temples to subside.

"For what it's worth, I'd have stuffed my fist down that guy's throat," Don remarked easily, leaning against the now closed door. "Those sessions with Habib must be working their magic. This time last year, you wouldn't have bothered with restraint."

"Yeah?" Will asked, turning to stare at the man that until a year ago he'd hated.

"Yeah," Don echoed, half surprised that McAvoy hadn't skewered him for even commenting on the man's weekly visits to his psychiatrist. "You'd have pounded him until he told you what you wanted to know."

"I still might," Will muttered, truth hiding not so cagily in those simple words.

"You know that he isn't the only one that can give you answers, right?" Don asked conversationally. "About Mac," he clarified when Will frowned at him.

"Come again?" Will asked.

"Think about it, Will," Don advised, staring at the other man. "The answers you seek are all around you."

"How about you stop talking like a fortune cookie and just spit it out if you have something useful to offer?" Will demanded grumpily. Jesus, when had his staff become a bunch of freaks determined to torture him into an early retirement?

"What I'm saying is that your Italian friend, Rossi, might have some answers, but unless he talked to Mac himself, which I seriously doubt, his information is second hand. You ought to get a better source. You know, like somebody that was _there_."

"If you're suggesting that I go and pump Mac for information…" Will retorted, immediately discarding that idea with a mental shudder.

"No, not Mac," Don denied patiently. "Someone else. Someone that was embedded with her. Go to Jim," he recommended evenly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Won't work," Will muttered with a shake of his head.

"Why the hell not? He works for _you_," Don countered, rolling his eyes. "Just remind him of that fact if you need to. He'll spill his guts."

Will snorted. "He'd cut out his tongue before he betrayed MacKenzie or any of her confidences. He might be a pain in the ass, but he's loyal to a fault." Honestly, it was one of the reasons he liked the kid so well. Unlike so many, the young James still had a moral compass. And while Don was a mostly decent guy, he was bit more flexible when it came to his ethics.

"I say it's still worth a try," Don replied with a shrug. "Worst case scenario is that you don't know any more than you do right now."

Running a hand through his hair, Will sighed. "Get out of here," he ordered. "Go harass somebody else."

"You sure?" Don asked, his hand poised on the doorknob.

"Yeah, but if you see Jim, tell him I'd like to see him in my office before the show," Will directed. It might be a lost cause, but Don was right.

He didn't have anything left to lose.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Dear Friends,**_

_**It's been a while again, I know. With the hubby out of the country and both kids birthdays during the month of February, it's been a hugely busy time. Oh, the joy of being a military wife! But, I'm trying to be more consistent with updates now. We'll see how it goes. To those who have asked, NOTHING is being abandoned. It's just taking me awhile to get updated. My writing partner and I are working to bring you both quality chapters of fanfiction AND new, professional work by our pen name, Sarah O'Rourke. Those books are available on amazon and kindle. I hope you'll check it out. ALSO, to those that have asked, our story, "Unexpected Surprises" is no longer available on fanfiction. We have taken it down to revamp it into an original work for Sarah O'Rourke. We'll let you know when it is available. We hope you won't be disappointed.**_

_**Thank you for sticking with us! We adore hearing from you!**_

_**All our best,**_

_**Ilovetvalot and tonnie2001969**_

_**P.S. – For anyone interested, our newest challenge for April (The Everything's Coming up… Flowers Challenge) is available at the Criminal Minds forum, "Chit Chat on Author's Corner". Please come by and check it out. We'd adore having you participate! The more the merrier!**_

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**Love That Does Not Die**

**Chapter Ten**

He hadn't made his career breaking stories that raised the public consciousness without learning a few things and making a few friends. When Jim still hadn't appeared in his office doorway a half hour later, Will reached for the phone with nary a thought to the consequences.

Oh, he'd heard some rumblings a few months back the Mac had nearly cost her news team their lives when they'd been stationed down range. Then, he'd assumed it was the fabrication of an imaginative and diabolical gossip columnist intent on making him suffer. Nina Howard was good at making him contemplate death. The woman sickened him on a good day and repulsed him most every time he thought of her but, she had her uses.

Now, he wondered if he shouldn't have paid better attention to what she'd had to say that night he'd met her in a bar and almost paid her to shut her mouth. Luckily, he had better sources than her. Colonel Joshua Sharpe would possess much more reliable intelligence than a second rate wannabe journalist. He'd been a fountain of information during the first Gulf War, and today, was still a well-known strategist for combat operations ongoing in Afghanistan. If anybody could tell him what he wanted to know with a minimum of fuss it would be Josh.

Dialing his number, he felt only mildly guilty in invading MacKenzie's privacy. After all, she worked for him. He had a right to delve into her background, didn't he? Hell, he had an obligation to CAN.

Twenty minutes later, he realized that all the rationalizing in the world couldn't excuse what he'd chosen to do, and he couldn't _un-_know what he'd learned. Will buried his face in his hand and thought about the bare facts he'd been given regarding the snafu Mac had been embroiled within eighteen months ago.

She could have died. Fuck that. Based on everything he had read, she _should _have died. Taliban didn't particular like women. _Especially_ spunky women with a British accent and more brains than sense. Yeah, it was definitely a miracle that MacKenzie had survived her captivity.

And the hell of it?

She'd willingly gone with the two Taliban soldiers that had stormed the small village hospital where she and her team had been covering a story on the effect the war was having on the citizens of Afghanistan. She'd bargained with her life to save the patients inside that small building. She'd convinced the would-be suicide bombers that they would get a lot more political mileage by taking her hostage than they would blowing up a bunch of innocent people.

Nina the airhead reporter had gotten it wrong. Dragging her team into that village against the advice of the army unit they traveled with had endangered their lives, that was the truth. But what the wannabe journalist had missed was the fact that Mac had sacrificed herself to keep them all alive.

The only question that remained for him was how much she'd had to endure while she'd been a prisoner. The colonel hadn't had those answers for him and hadn't been inclined to push the issue with anyone else. Most of the report he'd been reading on the incident had been redacted which meant that cloak and dagger methods had been employed to get the hostage back. In fact, all it had clearly stated was that Mac had been rescued by a team of Special Forces operatives and evacuated for medical treatment.

There was plenty of room for Will's active imagination to go wild. And none of the scenarios that were playing in his mind filled him with a warm fuzzy.

"Will?"

Despite his covered eyes, Will recognized the slightly wary voice coming from somewhere in front of his desk.

"Will? Are you okay?"

Well, the kid wasn't going away. He was going to have to acknowledge him before the guy panicked and called the paramedics.

"Yeah. Fine," Will offered, lifting his head to meet the Jim's concerned brown eyes. "What do you need?"

"I knocked," Jim offered weakly, pointing over his shoulder at the door behind him. "You didn't hear me. Don said that you wanted to talk to me before the show but, I can come back if you'd rather. You look kinda… stressed."

"I did wanna see you," Will agreed with a nod. "I guess I still do," he added grimly with a glance at the phone on his desk. If anybody had anything resembling the truth regarding what exactly had happened to Mac over there in that godforsaken wasteland, then it would be Jim. "Close the door, will ya?"

Jim turned and grasped the doorknob, shutting it with a soft click before turning to face the other man. "Is something wrong?" he asked slowly, trying to ascertain Will's mood.

"I need to ask you a couple of questions, and I don't want an audience for it," Will explained, gesturing toward the glass door where producers worked at a tangle of desks to prepare for their upcoming show.

Canting his head to one side, Jim narrowed his eyes. "What kind of questions exactly?" he asked.

"The kind you aren't going to want to answer," Will returned truthfully, reaching inside his desk drawer for a Marlboro Light. Taking a deep drag, Will stared at the younger man. "But, I need you to answer them, Jim."

"O-kay, ask," Jim invited cautiously, as a strange sense of foreboding crept up his spine. Will McAvoy rarely spoke to him. In fact, they mostly avoided each other. He assumed it was because of his close relationship with Mac. He knew the two were once formally a couple that had parted on less than amicable terms. That was the sum total of the information he possessed. He'd never pressed Mac for more. Mostly because the one and only time he'd been brave enough to prod his friend for details, the mere mention of this guy's name brought shadows into her eyes and blanched the color from her face.

As for Will, the fact that the newsman had actually requested to see him spoke volumes. The admission that the older man needed answers to questions virtually shrieked, "Trouble Ahead!"

"I want you to tell me what exactly happened to MacKenzie in Afghanistan, and I don't want the sanitized version of the truth the government just tried to hand me."

With those words, Jim felt his stomach sink to his feet.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello, friends! Just want to make a quick announcement that the May Challenge –"The Dearly Departed Death Fic Challenge" is available for sign-ups at the forum until April 30. We hope everybody will visit 'Chit Chat on Author's Corner' forum and give it a look. **

**Thanks for reading!**

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**Love That Does Not Die**

**Chapter Eleven**

Swallowing hard as he met the older man's too observant eyes, Jim automatically shook his head, his heart in his throat. "I'm sorry. I can't."

"Bullshit," Will declared, his voice flat and frankly disbelieving. "You can and you will."

"Due respect, sir, but what occurred in Afghanistan is none of your business. Neither MacKenzie nor I were in ACN's employ during that time period. If you had questions regarding that mission, you or Charlie should have asked those questions prior to hiring us."

Raising one brow, Will stared at the young man who had more of a backbone than he first realized. "First of all, I didn't hire either of you. I didn't get to have any input at _all_, if you remember correctly. Charlie went rogue on that hiring extravaganza. If I'd been here, neither one of you would have a job. I'm not saying it would have been the right decision on my part, but I won't lie either. But what's done is done and nobody is looking to fire anybody now, kid, if that's what's worrying you. I simply want to fully understand what happened over there. So, start talking," Will directed, his words more demand than request as he waved his hand at the younger man.

Clearing his throat, Jim looked anywhere but Will McAvoy's face. "I can't. I'm sorry, but I can't."

"Why not?" Will asked quietly, narrowing his eyes as a flush crept over Jim's face. Obviously uncomfortable, he nervously fidgeted on his feet and avoided meeting his gaze. "What don't you want me to know, Jim?" Tilting his head, he reached for a cigarette. Keeping his tone carefully emotionless, he continued, "Is it all true, then? Did MacKenzie recklessly nearly get her team killed? Am I dealing with a loose cannon? Because, if I am, maybe I need to cut her loose. I could save myself and the network a hell of a lot of grief."

"Are you insane?" Jim Harper breathed, eyes widening. "I mean, I know you're unpredictable and kind of an ass, but I never thought you were insane."

"Tell me what happened to her, Harper," Will ordered again, his tone hard and unyielding. He wasn't a man that gave up easily, and little Jimmy had something he wanted desperately. It was called the facts.

"No."

"Again, I'll ask you why not, and this time, why don't you try telling me the truth. In case you've missed it, I'm a big believer in the truth."

"It's not my truth to tell," Jim replied with quiet dignity. "My loyalty is to Mac. She brought me on here at the network. She saved my ass in the field. More than once. You? You're just the most recent asshole determined to make her life a living hell. I don't owe you anything other than an honest day's work which you get from me each and every day. If that's not good enough, you can consider this my notice. I won't betray MacKenzie's confidence or trust. Not to you. Not to anybody else. I owe her _everything, _Will. Certainly more than I'll ever be able to repay and _definitely _more than I owe you. You might be my boss, but you aren't my priest. I don't feel an overwhelming need to confide or confess anything to you. And for the record, you won't bully answers out of me either. I'm not your whistleblower. Sorry."

"Well put," Will returned with a terse nod. "So, you think I should just corner Mac and ask my questions, huh?" he asked conversationally, shrugging his broad shoulders. "I suppose that I can do that. In fact, I probably should have gone that route to begin with," he continued with a dismissive snort.

"What?" Jim asked in alarm. "No! You can't!"

"Oh, you can bet your ass that I can," Will returned with a cold smile. "If you don't want me to question _her_, you really should try harder to come up with some believable answers. As you know, I don't have a very long attention span and time _is_ ticking away," he warned, tapping the face of his gold Rolex.

Jim was a wise enough guy to know that Will didn't make idle threats. It was well known that if Will felt he wasn't getting the results he wanted, he'd move heaven and Earth to make sure he did. That included making MacKenzie's life into a living nightmare. "Don't do it, Will. Whatever it is that you think you need to hear from me, it won't help. The truth, in this instance, will serve no purpose. Not unless you really _are_ a twisted bastard that wants the worst for her. Is that who you are? Somebody that _wants_ to inflict pain on a woman that – in this, at least, doesn't deserve it?"

Pain flashed in his eyes as he listened to the accusation blanketing Jim's voice. Of course, the kid had no reason to think that he wouldn't use the information to inflict some new method of torture on Mac. On the contrary, he'd given the younger man every reason to think he _would_. "Nothing you tell me is going to be used in any way to hurt MacKenzie," he vowed softly.

"I should believe that, why?" Jim snapped, his posture stiff and uncompromising as he faced the guy responsible for getting him a paycheck. None of that mattered, however. Not when his mentor's reputation and sanity were on the line.

Lifting his chin, Will met Jim's hazel eyes with a steady gaze. "You really want me to spell it out for you? Mac almost had me convinced you were the smartest guy in the room. She'll be disappointed."

"You expect me to believe that _you_, the guy that's made it a mission to make her life as singularly unpleasant as possible, want the very best for her? That you want to help her?"

"I don't really give a shit what you believe, Jim," Will stated stoically. "I just wanna know the truth. Charlie warned me when he hired her that she was both physically and mentally exhausted. Then, that didn't strike a chord with me. But now, something Rossi said got me thinking, so I made a few phone calls. I got enough of the bare facts from a buddy at the Pentagon to know that whatever happened wasn't your average fucked up situation, but even he can only tell me so much. You were there. I'd say you were probably right there in the thick of it with her if I were a betting man. If anybody can help me understand what she's been through, it's you."

Uncertain now, Jim's face twisted. "Swear to me that you won't use anything I tell you to damage you either personally or professionally."

"My word would mean something to you?" Will asked, honestly surprised.

"You're an asshole, but you're an asshole with integrity."

"Thank you," Will returned in a low voice. "Now, sit down, Jim, and fill me in on what happened."


	12. Chapter 12

**Love That Does Not Die**

**Chapter Twelve**

Slouching in the chair in front of Will's desk, Jim shook his head. There was no good way out of this situation. He could spill his guts and betray Mac's confidence, or he could take the risk that Will would make good on his threat and take his questions to MacKenzie herself. Either way, he was fucked.

"Don't look so defeated, kid. I already assured you that I wouldn't use anything you tell me to screw with Mac," Will stated gruffly as a surge of guilt tingled against the back of his neck. He was putting Jim in a bad spot. He couldn't deny that. But, he needed those answers. In this case, the end definitely justified the means.

"What do you want to know, Will?" Jim mumbled, staring at his shoes.

"Everything. I want every detail that you can offer."

"Everything encompasses a lot of ground, and we've still got a show to do. Maybe we could table this conversation for another time," Jim suggested, his eyes darting toward the door. If he could just buy a little time, maybe he could navigate his way out of this nightmare.

"There's time," Will responded flatly. "Quit stalling. I already know that Mac was taken hostage while trying to cover a story at a small village hospital outside of Kabul. She bartered with her life to save the patients, doctors and rest of the crew. Just tell me what happened from there," he demanded, lighting another cigarette.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Jim swallowed. His memories from those dark days were as vivid now as they'd been when they happened. "We were in a war torn country where women are considered little more than chattel, and Mac was taken by an extremist group of Al Queda bent on revenge. What the hell do you _think_ happened to her, Will?" Jim asked softly, his voice trembling with emotion.

Blinking slowly, Will merely waited, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

Licking his dry lips, Jim shook his head as the old familiar anger he'd felt then resurfaced. He'd been powerless to stop the men that had dragged Mac out of that tiny hospital. Absolutely powerless. He'd tried to take her place, and when that hadn't worked, he'd tried to go with her. Finally speaking, his voice toneless, he said, "The men that took her initially were going to blow up the hospital where we were conducting interviews, but you know what a fast talker Mac can be. She told the leader who she was…an American reporter…a diplomat's daughter. She managed to convince him that they'd have a lot more bargaining power by taking her alive than by killing everybody else. They saw it her way. I couldn't do anything to stop them from taking her. I tried," he whispered. "But, they were pointing machine guns at the kids in the hospital, threatening to shoot them. I remember that MacKenzie looked me in the eye and told me to stop. You know that tone she uses... Anyway, they had us all get face down on the floor while the dragged her out of there. That was the last time I saw her for three days."

"How did you get her back?" Will asked stiffly, flicking his ash into the ashtray.

"First, I tried going through our network, but I couldn't get anywhere. You know how the red tape is for something like that. Remember Amen and Egypt? That was child's play. It was a hundred times worse than that. I gave up on getting any kind of help from them after the first day. Then, I called the only person I could think of that might have the clout and ammunition to get her out of there. I made the hardest phone call I've ever made in my life to her dad. He might be retired from the political world, but he still had strings he could pull, and believe me, he yanked the hell out of them."

"That sounds like him," Will agreed softly, staring at the glowing tip of his cigarette as he remembered Mac's dad. He was definitely the type of dad that would move heaven and Earth if it meant saving his daughter. "Go on, kid," he urged, needing to hear the entire sickening story once and for all.

"As you know, it took three days. Those animals had Mac for _three days_. Mac, Will. Our tiny, petite MacKenzie." Forcing himself to continue, he took a deep, steadying breath. "A Seal team was called in to extract her. And they did, but not before…" he trailed off, shaking his head.

"Before what, Jim?" Will prodded, his stomach sinking as he watched the younger man's face whiten.

"Look," Jim began, lifting his head to finally stare at Will with tears in his eyes. "I don't know who you got any of your information from, but from here on out, I _know_ that the only people that know the entire story are myself, Mac's doctor, and Mackenzie herself. Nobody else. Not our former network…not her dad…nobody," he whispered. "That's the way _she_ wanted it, Will."

"She's private," Will averred huskily. "It's not surprising that she'd wanna keep the details that way."

"She had a lot of reasons for it," Jim explained. "Our network would have spun the story for all it was worth, for one thing. The public knowledge of what went on in that terror camp would have made a media frenzy. It also would have crippled her parents emotionally."

"So, instead it crippled you and her."

"I can handle it," Jim dismissed, shrugging his shoulders. "She had to _live_ through it. It goes to prove what a strong woman she is that she did."

"You're gonna need a drink to get through this next part, aren't you?" Will asked quietly when Jim didn't speak for another minute.

"How did you know?" Jim grunted.

"Because, God knows, I think I do," Will replied truthfully as he rose from his desk and crossed the room to his small liquor cabinet. Reaching for the whiskey, he splashed a hefty shot into two glasses and carried them back to his desk. Dropping one heavy glass in front of Jim, he nodded toward it. "Take the shot, Jim, and rip the band-aid off. I need to hear it all."


End file.
